


All Is Fair In Love And War

by akki_the_immortal



Category: Keeper of the Lost Cities Series - Shannon Messenger
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Blood and Violence, F/F, ahem- gae
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:14:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29361582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akki_the_immortal/pseuds/akki_the_immortal
Summary: “Older men declare war. But it is youth that must fight and die.”― Herbert Hoover
Relationships: Sophie Foster/Biana Vacker
Comments: 41
Kudos: 18





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my wonderful wife Amelia, my mother-in-law Kiri, and my children, Finn, Virgil, Jojo, Nove, Palli, Char, Lula and oh-my-god-i've-lost-track-of-you-all, and my superbly amazing sister Nixx.

_We do not speak. We are silent._

I bounded through the streets, rain drumming down on the weathered cobbles. I shook my hair out of my eyes. Droplets clung to my lashes as I tilted my head up, wiping the water off my face.

_We do not spare. We are fatal._

My blade slipped cleanly in between the man’s ribs. His eyes widened, his mouth open, and then he was gone. I caught his body, lowering it to the ground.

_We do not slow. We are swift._

I pulled myself up, my momentum carrying me onto the cold tiles. I crouched low on the roof, my gaze raking over the horizon.

_We see._

My eyes caught the king’s flag in the darkness, the royal seal thrashing in the wind. I sprinted over the wet tiles.

_We listen._

I ducked back into the alleys, waiting. Soldiers stumbled out, arm in arm, their breath plagued with the telltale smell of alcohol.

_We hear._

“The king―”

“―To the king!”

Rounds of cheers followed the cry.

“End this bloody war!”

“Aye!”

Two soldiers slammed against the tavern’s walls. I gagged at the stale smell of beer.

“The king―” He gulped. “The king will win this war!”

“Hear, hear!”

“Down with Lumeria!”

“Down with King Tiergan!”

“Aye!”

_We serve the King._

My lips twisted into a grim smile. I backed away from the tavern, pulling my hood over my head, obscuring the mark. I know I’m not welcome here. I do not obey this king.

_We are the King’s Blade._


	2. Don't Cry Over Spilled Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The world slides, the world goes, and death makes equal the rich and the poor”
> 
> ― Bangambiki Habyarimana, Pearls Of Eternity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Poison Mention, Killing Mention, Blood Mention

We do not see. We do not hear. We do not speak.

The king tilted his glass, silently beckoning for more drink. I shuffled over, my eyes cast down towards the ground. Servants are silent.

I still remember the words pounded into my head. We are here to serve the king. That was what the servants were here to do. Serve. We are not human. We are servants.

I could feel the gold walls digging into my back as I stepped back, waiting. The king was crouched over, hunched like a madman. He sipped his wine and grimaced.

“More.”

I shuffled forwards again, taking my time. It wasn’t easy to peer at the notes over his shoulder, with the glare from his jewels blinding me. His words were a scrawl, ink blotted all over the page, smeared over his hand. My jaw clenched as I tipped the pitcher, the red liquid sloshing around the golden chalice. 

I could kill him right now.

A slash of my dagger is all it could take.

His blood would be dripping on the floor like his wine.

I could poison him.

Let him hack and cough his merry way to his well deserved death.

The pitcher shook in my hands as I stepped back, straining to keep myself in check. I wonder if he could feel my stare burning into his skull. I wonder whether he knew the pain he had inflicted on my people. I watched as he lifted the goblet and took a sip, swallowed, and set the glass back down, wondering if he knew that I could have just killed him.

I bit my tongue, stepping back against the wall, watching various soldiers and generals scurry through the hall. A blond-haired general bent down to speak to the king, pulling a chair up beside him. His silver armour was covered with various medals, a greatsword hanging from his hip. He lifted his own glass slightly in the air.

I scrambled forwards, nearly dropping the pitcher. Sloppy. I could feel my anger spiking. I’m surrounded by monsters, and I’m losing my cool. 

I tipped the pitcher, glaring at the medals swinging from his chestplate. Each badge was stained with the blood of my people. 

“Are you alright, miss?”

My head snapped up to face the general. He was looking at me rather curiously, a faint smile on his face. He wasn’t the only one.

I stumbled back, nearly slipping on the spilt wine. The general’s own glass was full to the rim, the red drink dripping down his hands and onto the floor. Laughter filled the room as I bent down, mopping up the wine.

“Leave it.” The king snapped, his teal eyes boring into my brain. 

I moved back, ignoring the pitying stare from the general. It took all of my control to dip my head into a bow, gritting my teeth. “I’m sorry, Your…. Your Majesty.”

His jaw twitched slightly, his eyes narrowing. His mouth opened, his voice soft and dangerous. “That was―”

“―All we need from you today.” The general finished. He shot the king a quick look, turning back towards me. He tilted his head towards the door. I took the hint, backing out into the hall. 

“You had no right―” Was all I caught before the doors slammed in my face.

Well.

That had not gone as planned.

I stalked away from the king’s rooms, hurrying through the twisted halls. My fingers ran over the scroll in my pocket, almost unconsciously unfurling the weathered paper. It wasn’t hard to remember the instructions. 

Tonight. Midnight. Purity Courtyard.

I ran through the note in my head, dodging nobles and ducking under arguing soldiers. Occasionally I slipped my hand into pockets and pulled out various shiny objects, most of which were small jewels that would pay for food for all of the poor in this blood-tainted city. 

“Hello.”

My head snapped up, my hand drifting to a weapon that wasn’t there. I hurried into a curtsey, taking the precious moment to compose my face. 

The boy gave me an odd look, his eyebrows lifting. “How did you get here?”

“Pardon?” 

His eyes flicked down my clothes and back to my face. “Servants aren’t allowed here. If you are…. a servant.”

“I am.” My gaze shot to the gold circlets resting on his brow, studded with teal sapphires glittering brightly in the firelight. “Your―Highness. I don’t know how I got here, I’m sorry.”

The young prince frowned slightly. “Are you new?”

“Yes. I mean― Yes, Your Highness.” I bit my lip, struggling to keep the venom out of my voice. 

This was the king’s son. He’ll inherit his father’s bloody throne, he’ll inherit his father’s bloodlust. He’ll fight us until we’re dead.

He smiled lightly, mistaking my tremors for fear. “Don’t, it’s fine. Just because I’m a prince doesn’t mean I’m different from you.” 

I couldn’t stop my choked laugh. The idea was so absurd. A prince, not different from me? Clearly he hasn’t seen what his father had done. I had. It was hard to ignore the hundreds of beggars outside the main castle walls. Lying under eaves, pulling blankets closer as they hid from the downpour of rain, most untreated soldiers from the war.

“With all due respect, Your Highness, I think you’re wrong.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. The young prince looked surprised, but unlike his father, he seemed to lack the murderous tendencies that usually occurred after one disrespected him. 

But he was still his father’s son. It was hard to keep reminding myself that. It was hard to remind myself that they were all the same. 

He held his hand out. “I’m Fitz. No titles,  _ please. _ I truly despise them.”

My jaw dropped slightly as I stared at his outstretched hand. This was an opportunity. This was a way to sneak my way higher, to infiltrate their ranks. This was a way to end the war. On a silver platter, handed to me by the crown prince of Eternalia.

My own hand shook slightly as I took his. I offered him a crooked smile, the wheels in mind turning. “Sophie. Sophie Foster.”


	3. Whispers In The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Life is an awful, ugly place to not have a best friend.”
> 
> ― Sarah Dessen, Someone Like You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Killing Mention, Poison Mention, Knives, Death Mention

It was far too easy to slip out of the castle.

My feet thudded against the ground as I flew over the damp cobblestones. It had stopped raining, mercifully, but it was still dark. Perfect for a very illegal meeting. 

I pulled my hood low over my head, peering out at the empty courtyard. Wind rustled the trees bordering the stone square. Water rushed in the fountain basin, the only noise in the quiet. I crept along the edge of the courtyard and slipped through the shadowed greenery.

“Who are you looking for?”

I spun around, drawing my dagger. It was hard to keep a straight face as the boy smiled at me as his periwinkle eyes glowed in the dark. It was an unconscious move, our hands twisting into a handshake perfected over years of our friendship. 

He laughed quietly, punching my arm. “How are you?”

“Good.” It wasn’t a lie. “You?”

“Alright, I guess.” His eyes darkened slightly. “Rex didn’t make it.”

I couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped my throat. Rex, sweet Rex, was dead. Another body on the king’s head. I glared back at the castle, my hands shaking. “I’m so sorry, Dex.”

He shook his head. “You’re good. It wasn’t your fault.”

“It wasn’t, Miss Foster.” I hadn’t even noticed the tall man under the willow tree. He stepped out, his dark blue eyes filled with sorrow. I bit my lip, shaking my head. “You’re wrong, Leto. If I’d―”

“You can’t change the past, Sophie.” His voice was soft and caring. He patted my shoulder, looking up at the tall spires of the castle. “So?”

Metallic blood filled my mouth, my teeth cutting a tear in my lip. “Everything’s going fine. I can kill that so-called ‘king’ anytime, General. Just give me the word.”

“Not yet.” He sighed, leaning back against the tree. “Tiergan― that is, King Tiergan to you― doesn’t want you making any moves against Eternalia. And certainly not King Alden. It’s not the time.”

I could feel my blood boiling. He had killed so many of us, and our king wanted to spare him? “You― the king― sent me here, to Eternalia, to kill King Alden, and how he doesn’t want me to? Doesn’t he see what pain Eternalia has caused us? What they’ve done?” I spat out my words, each word coated in venomous rage.

Leto’s lips twitched into a smile, a rare sight for the old general. “You mistake Tiergan’s motives, Miss Foster. He wants you to wait, because he has a plan. However, it’s not time to act yet. Which means that you need to stay put and keep your head. I can already see you losing your cool. Control yourself.”

I glared at him, turning to Dex instead, his expression telling me that this was the first he’d heard of the change on plans as well. “You’re okay with this?”

“Absolutely not.” 

The words were surprisingly comforting, but I still wasn’t satisfied. “Why do we need to wait? I can finish this.”

“Because the king said so.” Leto replied calmly.

My jaw tightened.

Dex frowned slightly, kicking at the loose earth. “I think we should listen to him, Sophie. If anyone knows what they’re doing, it’s King Tiergan.”

“But―” I started, then bit down on my tongue. Dex was right. So was Leto, which I found rather hard to admit since I’ve been doing my best to annoy the stately general ever since the day he chose Dex and I to be his apprentices.

“So?” I sighed, turning back to him. “What does Tiergan have in mind?”

“ _King_ Tiergan, Miss Foster.” His dark eyes twinkled softly in the dark. “And he has a very interesting plan. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Winnowing Ball?”

I frowned and nodded. I had heard about it, actually. From what I’d caught from snippets of conversations, the ball was an annual event in Eternalia. The highest of highborns attend, with King Alden himself present. Basically every snobby person in the kingdom comes to compete on how high they could stick their noses in the air.

“That’s when we’ll attack.”

I blinked. “What?”

“That’s when we’ll― or you, I suppose― will kill the king. And others. Hopefully.” Leto repeated slowly. 

“But that’s… so simple.” Dex stammered slightly.

“Simple plans are often the best.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek, tapping my foot against the cobbles. Shadows shifted around the courtyard, clouds obscuring the bright glow of the moon. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. I’ll wait until the ball.”

Wind rustled the bushes as Leto stared around the shadowy courtyard. “We should leave. I’ll send you more instructions soon.” He gaze fell onto me. “Remember, Miss Foster. We see. We listen. We hear. We serve the king. We are the King’s Blade.”

I shivered slightly, nodding. Dex offered me a slim grin as he pulled me into a tight hug. “See you soon, Soph.”

“Yeah.”

I was vaguely aware of watching their silhouettes slip through the streets, vaguely aware of running back to the castle and stealing back through the servants hall. Moonlight paled the deep red carpets and cast gorgeous coloured lights through the stained-glass windows. 

I hurried through the hall, my footsteps dulled against the carpets. My breath came out ragged as I skipped up the stairs, light on my feet. I frowned. Every hall looked the same. I frowned again and, and went right. 

“Your Majesty?”

King Alden looked haggard, dark circles around his eyes. Behind him the old wooden doors to the king’s rooms where slammed shut, small rays of light shining from under the door. Fitz looked just like his father, his own sleepless circles darker than the king’s. 

The king scowled slightly, looking me over. “What are you doing awake, little girl?”

I pursed my lips and dipped into a bow. He didn’t even _remember_ me. I was just another servant to him. I gritted my teeth and straightened. “I was feeling a little under the weather, Your Majesty. I just slipped out for a breath of fresh air.”

The king nodded, his gaze gliding over me. He seemed distracted, almost. I shot a look at Fitz, who shook his head and held out his arm. “I’ll escort you back to your chambers, Miss.”

He nodded again and ran a hand down his face, watching as his son pulled me out of sight. 

“Fitz, what’s―”

He shook his head, dragging me down the hall. Cool wind hit my face as he pulled me outside, around the courtyard, behind the castle. Green vines were draped all over the ancient marble statues, flowers and ferns shooting out of cracks in the ivory stone.

“Where are we?” 

“Royal Gardens.”

I glanced at him, taking in his rumpled tunic and red face. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s― Nothing.”

“You can’t expect me to believe that.”

He bit his lip, looking back at the tall spires of the castle, the same way Leto had looked at them earlier that night. His eyes were filled with tears, dripping down his cheeks and onto his shirt. “My mom― The queen―”

I raised my eyebrow. I knew the Queen, if only from her brief meeting with my own king. “What about her?”

“She― She’s dying.”

“What?”

“In battle. The Battle of Oblivionmyre. She was stabbed―” His eyes sparkled with tears.

I remembered that battle. I didn’t fight, but I remember the cheers that echoed around the palace that night. But he couldn’t know that. He was his father’s son, and his father was a monster, and his father was the one who hurt my people. “What happen?”

Almost as if a switch had been flipped, the tears were gone from the young prince’s eyes. They blazed with anger, his fists clenched, knuckles white. “Them. It was them. King Tiergan’s soldiers. They did that to her. They’re monsters, and murders.”

Blood pounded through my head. “What?”

“They’re monsters.” He spat, glaring around the garden. “That’s all there is to it.”

I opened my mouth and closed it again. “I― I have to go.”

“No wait― Sorry.” Fitz ran a hand down his face, sitting on the marble ruins. “I just get so _angry_. They’ve hurt my kingdom so much. I hate it. I wish this war would just end.”

“Same.” My words were a whisper, gently carrying on the wind. 

Fitz smiled sadly, kicking around the pale stone debris. “And if this war doesn’t end soon then... I suppose,” He swallowed hard. “I’ll be king. And then, well I don’t know.”

He stared up towards the twinkling sky, sighing deeply. His eyes were pricked with tears again. “I don’t know whether she’ll survive.” He whispered. “But I don’t what I can do except end this war.”

We both watched the stars shimmer brightly against the dark night sky, the wind ruffling in our hair. After a few minutes, a creak of a door echoed through the night, accompanied by the soft sound of feet on grass. 

It took me a second to recognize the general from the day before, he was out of armour and wringing his hands as he held out his arm for the prince. “Your Highness, your father asked me to come get you. It’s late.” He smiled at me, if only a little sadly.

Fitz nodded and pulled himself to his feet. “Thank you General Ruewen. I’m so―”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He assured him quietly. He dipped his head to me and gestured towards the castle. “If I could escort you back, Miss?”

I shook my head, gazing at Fitz. “I think I’ll stay out her a little while longer.”

Both men dipped their heads into polite bows, walking back to the shadowy palace. I watched them leave, brushing the dirt off my dress.

I thought the prince was different.

I thought that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t be as blind as the rest of his people.

My eyes narrowed as I watched soft candlelight go out in the castle windows.

Oh well.

Like father, like son.


	4. A Princess or a Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The bottom line is that we never fall for the person we're supposed to.”
> 
> ― Jodi Picoult, My Sister's Keeper

“She’s getting worse.”

Sweat trickled down my back under the bright lights of the queen’s rooms, the diamond chandeliers shining brightly in my eyes.

Soft beams of sunlight fell onto the silken sheets and off the wooden bed posts, bathing the queen in a hazy glow. Her face was drawn, eyes closed, skin pale, lips tinged red. I would have thought her dead were it not for the slight rise and fall of her chest.

Dark dreads brushed over her face as the healer bent over, pressing a hand to the queen’s forehead, eyes filled with concern. Small beads clacked together as she shook her head, shooting the general a sad look. “It’s getting worse, Grady. Much worse. Soporidine is―”

“I know.” His jaw twitched, anger set into his features. “How much longer?”

“I’d say a week, two at the most.” The healer sighed and dropped into a chair, letting her slender hands hide the fear masking her face. “I don’t think I can save her.”

He nodded slightly, staring at the broken queen. “What do we know about the poison?”

“It’s a fast acting toxin that targets blood and bloodstreams, a kind of hybridized bacterium. There are different levels of toxicity, I would say she’s been exposed to the highest level.” I could hear her trying to control her shaking voice. “Not only that, because of the nature of her wound, the poison found its way to her bloodstream quicker.”

I dropped my eyes to the ground, my arms straining against the weight of the pitcher in my hand. 

I remember the day when they figured out the formula for the deadly poison, and I remember the day when our soldiers sprinted into the throne room, shouting that the queen was dead. They were wrong, of course, she held on by a thread, but that was enough for Eternalia’s people to save her. 

It cost us. 

Badly.

The pitcher shook in my hands, the faces of the dead spinning through my mind. Friends, family, all dead under our banner. 

Dead because  _ King Alden _ didn’t understand the price of war.

Soft knocking echoed through the room, the doors opening for a messy-haired servant. He shuffled into the threshold, bowing stiffly to the general and the healer. “Ma’am, she’s here.”

The healer waved her hand, moving away from the still form of Queen Della. 

It was a ghost of the queen who appeared in the doorway, pale and cold, eyes slit in anger. Dark brown curls fell over her shoulders, loose and unbound, slightly damp from rain. Her plain silver breastplate gleamed in the dancing sun, a startling contrast to the elegant, soft pink dress she wore underneath. It flowed around her, only adding to the girl’s ghostly appearance. But this ghost was living,  _ breathing. _

Her feet thudded against the soft carpet, dress fanning out around her legs as she dropped beside her mother. I watched silently as the young princess grasped at the queen’s hand, tears slipping down her cheeks. 

“Mother― please―” She whispered. Her dark curls fanned out as she turned to face General Ruewen. “She looks worse, general.”

“She is worse.” He murmured, his voice soft in his sadness. “Much worse.”

Fire blazed her eyes, pure, raw anger threatening to burn the room down. She did not look sad, nor did she look defeated. She looked ready to kill. I watched her knuckles turn white as they clenched the silken sheets, trembling in her fury. “Anything else?” She hissed quietly.

“No, princess.”

She nodded as she got to her feet, shivering despite the warm glow of the afternoon sun. Her cold eyes swept around the room, landing on me.

Her stare froze me to the bone.

It was magnetic almost, pulling me in. Her gaze raked over me, taking in every inch of my dark circles, knotted hair, her eyes resting on my collarbone.

My mark.

The symbol of the King’s Blade.

Her  _ enemies _ .

Please.

Please say it’s covered.

Please.

“You’re new.” Her voice cut through my thoughts, soft but thick with emotion. 

I dipped low into my curtsy, my heart pounding. “Yes, I am. Princess.” 

She raised one perfect eyebrow, stepping back towards the door. Her gaze lingered on her mother, still as pale and unmoving as before. “General Ruewen.” Her voice wavered slightly. “Lady Livvy. And you.” She looked over at me again, waving me over. “Follow me.”

* * *

_ Shitk. _

_ Shiiiitk. _

_ Thunk. _

I glared up at the metal blade sticking out of the wood. It gleamed in the moonlight, it’s edge sharp and dangerous.

I hadn’t meant to throw it that hard.

My bed creaked as I reached up, a soft thump echoing around my room as I flopped back down, my head thudding back onto my pillow. Then silver ripped through the air again and landed back in my palm with terrifying grace.

I exhaled a soft sigh, dropping the knife to the table with a clatter. Shadows danced on my walls, creeping and curling the corners of the room. I shut my eyes, willing myself to sleep.

_ My heart beating out of my chest, sweat trickling down my back. And all there was in my head was an incessant drumbeat;  _ she knows, she knows, she knows _.  _

_ Even in my fear, I was mesmerized by this ghost of a girl, commanding the others without saying a word. Subjects parting for this child the same way they would part for her father and mother, and for any of the kings and queens who came before them. This child, with no crown on her head, walking among men and women who have witnessed war and it’s horrors firsthand. _

_ And yet she still looked their equal in every way. _

I growled under my breath, pulling the cotton sheets over my head.

_ Awed by her intelligence, watching her stride through the halls of the palace. Nodding to everyone who passed, each one nodding back with a respectful smile on their lips. _

_ Her smiling and hugging her brother, punching his arm. Arguing about some vaguely important law, turning to me to back her up. I did. She was right. _

I wrenched the blankets off, pacing around the room. 

This is war.

You have a job.

She’s your enemy.

I climbed back into bed, squeezing my eyes shut. 

I could feel my mind drifting, Leto, Dex, Fitz, the war, the king, the queen, the castle, all swirling through my thoughts into one unrecognizable dream.

But even in the shadows, I could see the ghost girl flitting through the corners of my mind, soft pink dress fanning out behind her.

It was a long night.


End file.
